


What's a Guy Gotta Do to Get Tortured Around Here?

by draculard



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Dark Leia Organa, Dark Luke Skywalker, Electrocution, Force Choking (Star Wars), Force Lightning (Star Wars), Humor, Masochism, Masochist Han Solo, Mild Incest, Multi, Prisoner Han Solo, Sadism, Sexual Torture, Sith twins, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: I mean, have you seen those Sith twins? You're telling me youdon'twant to get Force choked by those two while their dad watches? Well, good for you, take the high road, O Saintly Fanfiction Reader — Han Solo's going low.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Luke Skywalker/Han Solo, Leia Organa/Luke Skywalker/Han Solo/Darth Vader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 19





	What's a Guy Gotta Do to Get Tortured Around Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, I'm draculard there too

It wasn’t pleasant, Han could admit that — but it wasn’t the worst thing he’d come up with when he put the words ‘Imperial’ and ‘torture’ together. He’d expected toenail-ripping, some spine-stretching perhaps, thumbscrews (whatever those were) and floggings and truth serums, all administered by some pasty Core Worlder with ill-advised sideburns and a bald spot the size of Corellia’s third moon. 

What he hadn’t expected, naturally, was this: Darth Vader stationed by the door, his arms crossed and his feet planted in some sort of Imperial power stance, the hum of his respirator filling the room. Lady Vader (who had a much better fashion sense than her dear old dad), gauntlet outstretched and closed around air, slowly squeezing the breath from Han’s windpipe.

Which probably should have worried him more than it did.

Or at least aroused him _less_. He squinted, one eye open and one closed against the pain, and craned his neck past Leia’s invisible grip to peek at his trousers. Yeah, he was tenting. Visibly so. That was — he flicked his eyes up at Vader — oh yeah, everyone in the room could see it.

Including—

“It’s not working,” said an impatient voice from just outside of Han’s periphery. The second Vader scion stepped forward, clad in skintight black, his blue eyes as hard and flinty as ice. He stood next to Leia, who shot him an exasperated look and didn’t stop choking Han for a moment.

Not that he was complaining.

“You want to torture him, go ahead,” Leia snapped, her hand still outstretched. Han could feel an invisible thumb stroking his pulsepoint; his breath wheezed out of him, his head thrown back in pain and ecstasy, his cock unbearably hard.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Luke said. He rolled up his sleeves, took off his gloves — what, another choking? What exactly was _that_ supposed to accomplish? — and aimed his left hand at Han.

Blue sparks of electricity danced over his fingertips.

 _Oh,_ Han thought, and that was really all he had time for before light flashed through the room and pain collided with his brain like a long-haul freighter slamming into a small moon. White-hot agony lanced from his core out to his limbs, leaving his fingers and toes sizzling, feeling like they might explode — and his cock like it might start shooting lightning bolts, which was just as terrible as it sounded.

And maybe perhaps a little bit more arousing than it sounded, too. His nerves were on fire, his mouth gaping open with mindless pain, moans of agony ripped from his throat — really, it wasn't all that different from really good sex, when Han thought about it. All that was missing was a nice sharp high heel between his shoulder blades, and it looked like just about any of the three Vaders could supply that for him. His nerves were so shot that he'd probably explode (in the good way) if someone just choked him a little harder, or pinched his nipple, or hit him with that lightning again.

(Oh no. What a tragedy that would be.)

From the corner of the room, while the twins worked Han over, there was a dark chuckle from Vader himself.

It was about time the kids learned that some people just _liked_ pain. What they _really_ needed to do with a miscreant like Solo was—

His cock twitched beneath his armor. He watched Leia’s jaw clench with concentration, her eyes sparking; Luke’s straight-backed posture and athletic grace as he unleashed agony on the prisoner; Solo’s back arching, a wet spot of pre-cum appearing on his trousers as he writhed. They wouldn’t get any answers like this, Vader thought, settling back against the wall. But maybe that wasn’t the point. 

He curled his fingers, sending simultaneous frissons of pleasure between Leia’s legs — up Luke’s spine — in a massive electric jolt through Solo’s body. He’d show them what to do later. For now, Vader would let them have their fun.

He rather thought the twins had earned it.


End file.
